Throwing Away the Safety Pin
by WinniUsagi
Summary: "Italy, why don't you open your eyes?" He asked, and the smaller nation looked down. "I-I don't like to remind people." Italy mumbled, and hiccuped, wiping his tears with his pajama sleeve, "I don't like to remind people of Grandpa Rome!" Germany tries to consult an upset Italy, even though he doesn't have a book this time. Many amounts of fluff and maybe a kiss or two? One-Shot.


**A/N:**** I really should stop making pointless oneshots. . .XD But what can I say? I love writing GerIta stories! :D Especially those that have the same plotline as 10,000 other stories! **

**Yup, I have no creativity. **

**Hope you all enjoy the story (despite the fact that I wrote it at 12 AM while eating banana bread in the dark. . .)!**

* * *

_**I do not own Hetalia.**_

**Throwing Away the Safety Pin**

It was so nice and serene. The soft, dripping sound of rain falling against his rooftop, the intense simmer of his potato soup being cooked wrapping itself around his nose, teasing him with the delicious smell, and the dimmed light in the kitchen reminding him that, after a delicious dinner, he had a high chance of getting at least 7 hours of sleep tonight. For once, his older brother wasn't marching around the house, screaming at him that he was still a nation of amazing superiority, and that Germany should be grateful "to have such an awesome brother". No, the white-haired annoyance was out drinking with France and Spain again, and Germany wasn't training with the allies, so the blonde had the rare treat of having the house entirely to himself for one night.

He sighed, relaxed, and closed his bright blue eyes, ran his fingers through his rather, for once, disheveled hair, enjoying the quiet, peaceful-

"Ve, Germany!" A familiar voice piped, the words speaking in rhythm along with the urgent knocks on the door and the booming thunder rumbling its' loud sound against Germany's ears. The blonde sighed as he turned down the gas level underneath his cooking pot and placed his ladle on the tile surface next to the stove, knowing perfectly well who was constantly knocking on his door, ignoring as the nation said he was coming as he walked over to the front door. He turned the main lock and hadn't opened the door one inch before it swung open, a short, brown-haired Italian's soaked arms wrapping themselves around him desperately in less than half a second afterwards. Germany staggered back into the dark living room, surprised by the sudden, incommodious attack, and raised his hands upwards to try and get the embracing Italian off of him. "Italy, please get yourself-"

"You opened the door!" Italy exclaimed happily, tightening his grip around the German, "Ve, I thought you'd never open!"

"Italy, get off-"

Sniff. "Ve, what are you cooking, Germany_?_ I can make pasta to go along with it, and lots of macaroni, and-"

"Italy!" Germany yelled, gently yet firmly pushing the brunette off of him and towards the couch next to them so as to not hurt the small man. He walked over to the door, where, because of Italy's push, drops of rain were welcoming themselves into the nation's house, soaking up parts of the carpet by the entrance. He sighed and closed the door, turning back to the Italian, who was now standing in the middle of Germany's living room, his yellow raincoat dripping water all over the carpet. Germany blinked and then ran over, half-dragging, half-pulling the smaller nation's raincoat off of him and wrapped it around a hanger, laying it out to dry. He took a deep breath, feeling his blood pressure pulsating. Of course he should've known the quiet wouldn't have lasted. He turned to the Italian, who was wearing a pair of bright purple pajamas in the middle of his living room, a small smile on his lips. The German sighed again, exhausted by the recent events, but thankful that the Italian was at least wearing clothes. "May I inquire as to why you are here so late?"

"Ve, I don't like it when it's thundering!" Italy exclaimed, his teeth quietly chattering against each other.

"Italy..." His forehead met with the base of his palm, "You do realize that you have to face your fear of-"

"And..." The Italian looked down, twisting his toe into the tile floor shyly, nervous to meet the angry German's glare, "Romano-_niichan_ left me alone to go celebrate the success of his tomato harvest with Spain-_niichan_, who I think dragged him along with France-_niichan_ and Prussia and I got quite lonely...and scared..."

Germany's gaze softened a bit, and he scratched the back of his neck. _"So he was lonely?"_ He thought, and his mouth twisted a bit, "All right, you can stay here for the night. But don't-"

"Vee!" Germany found himself tackled once again by the Italian, this time onto the ground, and he tried to get him off, remembering that he had some unsupervised potato soup to take care of, "Italy, get off, I have something on the stove, and-"

"Ve, Germany is so kind!" Italy exclaimed happily, ignoring Germany's protests. He suddenly stopped his praise and looked down at the German. "Wait, did you say you had something on the stove?" He asked.

Germany looked at the Italian, who was now sitting on his back. His eyebrows were raised up in confusion and worry, and his eyes were closed- as always. The German blinked and then nodded slowly, remembering what he had just said. "Yeah, I do."

"Okay!" Italy slid off of Germany's shoulders and fell onto the ground, quickly recovering and rushing to the kitchen, waving his arms up and down excitedly. Another flash of lightning streaked across the sky, briefly brightening the entire living room for a moment, and Germany started to walk towards the kitchen. _"Ne,_ Italy, does Romano know you're here?"

"I left a potato on the dining table, so he should understand!" Italy said happily, stirring the potato soup, and Germany pursed his lips. He could already hear the loud, piercing sounds of Romano's screaming in his ears, the words repeating themselves over and over in his ear. He wasn't frightened of the older Italian, but he certainly didn't understand how he could be on good terms with one half of a country, and have a terrible relationship with the other. "Besides, he's probably not going to come home tonight, because whenever he has a celebration with Spain-_niichan_ for their tomato harvest, he always ends up drinking too much wine and stays at Spain-_niichan's _house." He shrugged. "So maybe I'll get home before him!" Italy reached into Germany's fridge, taking out a few tomatoes and starting to chop them on his wood board. "Why?" He turned to the blonde, "Are you scared of Romano-_niichan,_ Germany_?"_

"No!" Germany immediately blurted out, "I just didn't want to wake up to my house being torn down because he thought I kidnapped you or something."

Italy laughed, starting to prepare other ingredients while he stirred the potato soup. "Well, I don't think-" He sniffed the fumes of the soup swirling in the air, and then pouted, turning to the soup, "Germany, this soup needs much more salt!" He complained, and grabbed the salt shaker, preparing to shake some into the pot.

"No!" Germany reached out to grab the white container from Italy's hands, his blue eyes wide, "The soup is fine, just make your pasta-"

"Germany, look out!"

Germany turned, not paying attention to anything but the salt shaker that was to ruin his soup upto this point, and realized his reaching forward had hit his arm against the handle of the pot, spilling the pot everywhere.

"Look out!"

Germany felt two hands push him back, and jumped away from the falling pot. Bright brown potato soup spilled everywhere on the tile floor, and Germany could feel his temper rising. _"ITA-"_ He turned around, but there was no brunette cringing behind him as usual. He looked back at the kitchen, and there, on the cream tile floor, crying out in pain as he clutched his small foot, lay a sobbing Italy.

"Italy!" Germany ran forward, his arms reaching out towards the small nation as he forgot all his anger, his temper immediately disappearing.

"G-Germany, are you alright?" Italy asked in a small whisper, and Germany nodded, gritting his teeth as his eyebrows furrowed angrily. "You fool, when did I tell you to push me away from the danger?" He demanded.

"Heh...sorry, Captain!"

He slowly lifted Italy's right leg, where a dark red burn had imprinted itself onto the pale flesh. "We'll have to go wash it." Germany stood up, motioning for the Italian to get up. "Come on, let's go to the shower."

Italy blushed, his cheeks turning almost as dark as his burn. "T-The shower? B-But Germany_-"_

"Idiot, I'm going to help you wash your foot there, not anything else!"

"O-Oh."

Germany rolled his eyes, motioning towards the Italian again. "Come on, get up, Italy_."_

"Ve..." Italy gulped, afraid to hear what the German's reaction would be. "G-Germany_,_ I-I c-can't-"

"Can't what?"

"I can't get up! My leg hurts too much to walk on it."

Germany groaned. Of course. The one moment he was to have total peace and quiet to himself, Italy stormed into his home, spilled hot, boiling potato soup on himself and his kitchen floor, and now needed to be carried. He sighed and bent down to the wincing Italian, wrapping one arm around his back and the other underneath his legs, careful not to touch the burn. He slowly stood up, and Italy wrapped his arms around Germany's neck for support, biting his lip nervously as he stole quick glances at the irritated blonde.

Germany kicked the bathroom door open and gently laid Italy down on the bathroom floor, grabbing the shower and turning the knob to the dark blue setting. He pointed the cylinder towards Italy's foot, and a stream of cold water spurted out, washing the Italian's foot. Italy let out a small squeak of sudden pain and shock, but then relaxed, his shoulders drooping as he laid back against the cool bathroom wall as Germany rubbed the cold water against his leg, cooling off the burn. "Ve, thank you Germany!" Italy exclaimed contentedly, "I don't feel any more pain!" He looked up at the blonde, "You should be a doctor!"

Germany smirked. "If everyone could become a doctor by doing such a small thing, then everyone would be a doctor."

"Ve, still!" Italy let out a sigh of relief, "I feel so much better!"

Germany turned off the shower and grabbed a nearby emerald green towel, wiping the foot in front of him with care, the dark red burn now a more healthy, ruddy color. Italy's "ve"ing noise was the only sound that filled the awkward silence, and Germany could feel a few drops of sweat forming at the top of his forehead. What was happening? He had never felt nervous around Italy, except when the brunette had placed a grenade in his mouth and threw away the safety pin. Now it was like he was throwing away his _own_ safety pin, exposing him to the dangers of everything. He took a deep breath, the scent of fresh tomatoes and pasta-like ingredients filling up his nose. _"What is this feeling...?"_

"Germany, you're rubbing too hard!"

Germany immediately halted, looking up to a confused Italy. "Besides, my foot is nice and dry now. Thank you!" He got up and looked down at the floor while Germany stood up. _"Ne, _Germany. Why is every floor in your house tile?"

"Because..." The blonde paused. Why did he? He blinked, a bit confused by the question himself, and then shrugged. "I-I don't know. I just do."

"Ve, you should change it!" Italy suggested, and started to walk, following Germany as he walked behind him, "I mean, someone could get- VEEE!"

As per instinct, Germany immediately whirled around and stretched out his arms, catching the slipping Italian. Another brief silence followed, and the two noticed that his arms were wrapped around the brunette's shoulders and waist, not only preventing him from hurting himself, but also holding him close to the blonde. Crystal blue eyes stared at the face in front of him, and he felt himself growing a bit irritated, as he now had a desire that was slowly eating him alive.

He wanted to see those eyes. He wanted to see Italy's eyes, as he couldn't remember for the entire time he knew his ally if he had ever seen them open.

Germany opened his mouth to speak, to apologize for holding the nation in such a close and awkward way, but instead found himself leaning forward and planting his lips onto Italy's, closing his own eyes, and wrapping his arms around the brunette's back supportively. The smaller nation responded by resting his arms on Germany's shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Germany blinked at this response, and then noticed that the Italian's eyes were still closed as he kissed him. The blonde immediately stood up, breaking off the kiss. "N-No, I can't."

"Ve, what is it?" Italy asked, but Germany shook his head. "Germany, tell me!"

Germany looked down at the smaller nation, who seemed confused and...hurt? The blonde felt guilty and a bit disappointed in cutting off the kiss, too, but he couldn't help it. He _had_ to ask.

Germany placed his hands on the brunette's shoulders, "Italy, why don't you open your eyes?"

The question seemed to have caught the nation off-guard, because he froze, his half-grin immediately disappearing. Germany could tell he had asked the wrong question, as small, diaphanous tears began to form at the ends of Italy's closed eyes, streaming down his strawberry-red cheeks. The blonde could feel his heart drop down, seeing his ally hurt like this, and pursed his lips. He wanted to apologize, but what was he to apologize for? Asking a question? He cleared his throat, slowly raising his hands to hold the Italian's face. "I-Italy, I'm sorry if what I asked was too straightforward, or...erm-"

"I-I don't like to remind people." Italy mumbled, and hiccuped, wiping his tears with his pajama sleeve, and the German blinked. "What?"

"I don't like to remind people of Rome-_ojichan!"_ He repeated in a louder tone, his voice echoing throughout the entire house. Germany blinked, a bit surprised by the smaller nation's sudden rise in tone, and then patted him on the back. "Come, let's go to the kitchen."

* * *

"When I was young, people would always tell Rome-_ojichan_ about how my eyes looked exactly like his." Italy said, his head hung low, facing the red, yellow, and black tablecloth that lay on top of Germany's kitchen table, where his small hands held each other so tightly they were turning a ghostly white. Germany was slowly stirring the bubbling pot in front of him, all of his attention entirely focused on the small brunette sitting at his table, jumping up in a startled manner every time a flash of bright lightning would streak across the sky. The blonde had decided, much to Italy's surprise, to cook pasta himself while the two of them remained alone in the quiet kitchen, and, had surprised himself as well, as the German knew he'd never cook the Italian cuisine he was forced to eat at least four times a week, let alone on the weekend. But Italy seemed hurt by the question Germany had asked, and he wanted to apologize to him in any way possible.

That included attempting to cook pasta for the upset nation.

"And that made Rome-_ojichan_ proud! He loved having a relative who looked like him, since he said that Mama's eyes looked like her mother's, so he loved it! " He exclaimed, a small smile appearing on his face, but it immediately disappeared once he spoke again, burying his face in his small arms, "But then he died, right before I moved into Austria-_san'_s house!" He sniffed, and Germany turned down the gas, walking over to the sobbing Italian, "And whenever I'd open my eyes, I could see others cry whenever they looked at me, o-or..." His voice started to break further, "...they'd glare at me, and shake their heads, claiming I'd never be anything like Rome-_ojichan_, a-and..." Italy's voice trailed off into more broken sobs, and Germany found himself awkwardly patting the nation on the back, pursing his lips, unsure of what to do while the brunette cried.

Germany knew he had seen Italy cry out in physical pain or something small before, but he had never, _ever_ seen the Italian cry over something in a true heartbreak or something that made him truly emotional. He patted his back once more, clearing his throat. "I-It's okay, Italy_,_" He said, trying his best as to not upset the brunette further, "I-I'm sorry for asking about something so sensitive, and..." He sighed, a bit disappointed as he lied through his bare teeth, as he knew, deep down, he _truly_ wanted to see the Italian's eyes open, "...I'm sure that if Ancient- er, Grandpa Rome was with you right now," He flinched as he heard the sobs worsen, "He wouldn't want you crying right now, so please calm down..." His voice trailed off, not a clue in his head of what to do. _"Dammit, why didn't I buy that book back at the store?" _He thought, the image of the brightly-illustrated "The Dummies' Guide to Dealing with Italians' Feelings" book re-entering his mind, and swore quietly, cursing himself for not giving enough thought of whether to buy it or not.

"B-But Germany_,_ I c-can't!" The Italian's voice cried out, sinking further into the wooden chair. "I remember...R-Rome-_ojichan_'s body used to be covered w-with scars and it seemed really p-painful...yet people said he'd live on and on, and t-then..." His voice trailed off once again, disappearing as he hiccuped, his shoulders following their rhythm. "I miss him so much, I'd do anything to see him again!"

A wave of guilt washed over Germany as he heard the Italian cry, as he remembered that, just a few nights ago, the former-great nation had visited the blonde, claiming he had come to meet his youngest grandson. It wasn't fair that Ancient Rome had come to meet Italy, who was asleep, and had to deal with Germany instead, who was still shocked by his sudden visit in the middle of the night. The blonde unknowingly reached out to the seated brunette and held his face in his pale hands, gently tilting it upwards. "I-Italy, I understand you're hurt, but you've got to forget about the past," He pursed his lips for a brief moment, not having a clue of the words that were pouring out of his mouth, "And overcome your fears."

"But I-I can't overcome them! I'm afraid of them!"

A small smile tugged at the German's lips, and he patted the brunette's head again, sitting down in the empty chair next to him. "It's alright, Italy_,"_ Germany said, patting the nation gently on the back again, "You shouldn't be afraid anymore, as the people who knew Ancient Rome were humans, and they most likely aren't-" He cut himself off immediately, not wanting to mention the word around the brunette, "...around anymore. And," He tilted Italy's head up slightly so he'd face him. He had never told anything false to the small Italian, but now the German was ready to tell him a little white lie, "I've never met Ancient Rome, so you could show me your eyes...right?"

Italy sniffed. "Y-You won't say a-anything, will you?"

Germany nodded, hoping Italy wouldn't realize he was lying through his teeth. "Yes, I promise."

The smaller nation gulped, and then took a deep breath, slowly fluttering his pale eyelids open.

Germany inhaled a tiny gasp small enough only for himself to hear. Italy's eyes were indeed exactly like Ancient Rome's. They were painted the same chestnut and golden-mixed color, with a similar twinkling spark that indicated both immaturity yet a small hint of wisdom. Italy's eyes seemed more open and young, however, as if they weren't as wise as Ancient Rome's. Yet they were still just as beautiful and bright, the shining orbs perfect, round circles. Germany could feel small beads of sweat form on his forehead as he uneasily blinked at the Italian.

He had actually _opened_ them. Italy had _actually opened his eyes._ In front of him, Germany.

He could hardly believe it.

"G-Germany?" Italy whispered softly, "A-Are you okay? You're not going to die, are you?"

The question caught the German off-guard, as death was the last thing that seemed to be on his mind right now, staring into Italy's eyes, and the Italian started to shake, more tears streaming down his reddening cheeks. "I-I knew it, now Germany is m-mad, and h-he's going to d-die, and-"

Germany cut off the little nation by kissing him again, reaching out to place his arms on Italy's shoulders. The Italian now blinked, and Germany could realize his eyes were filled with utter confusion and shock. For once, the German felt as if he could tell what Italy was thinking, as if he could see what the brunette was feeling and why. Nonetheless, the smaller nation kissed back, his cheeks reddening further as he scooted closer towards his ally.

After a few moments, Italy cut the kiss off quickly, and Germany blinked, confused and now kissing his cheek. "G-Germany, does t-this mean I can sleep with you t-tonight?"

Germany swallowed, now blushing. "Don't you always?"

"Y-Yeah, but I-I don't want you t-to die, and I-I want to make sure y-you stay!"

The taller nation kissed him again on the cheek, smiling. "I promise, I won't ever leave you, Italy. That's why I promised you to always be by your side, remember? When you were afraid of me leaving you for Russia."

"So you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it."

"_Grazie!"_ Italy thanked, slipping into his native language, jumping forward and wrapping his arms around Germany's shoulders, kissing him madly on the cheek, _"Grazie, grazie, grazie mille, Germania! Grazie, grazie-"_

"Okay, okay." Germany chuckled, gently pushing the Italian away from him and kissing him on the head. "I think it's time to eat some pasta?"

"Yes!" Italy nodded in agreement, his eyes wide and shining brightly with excitement, "Time to eat pasta!"

* * *

"Ve..." Italy's soft voice whispered repeatedly, his warm breath tickling Germany's ear as he snore gently. The blonde next to him twitched slightly and then rubbed his eyes, looking to his side, where the naked Italian was- thank God- covered by the blanket the two shared in the German's bed, and sleeping with a happy smile etched upon his face.

Running a hand through his hair, Germany laid back on his pillow, trying to remember what had happened the night before. _"Oh, that's right..."_ He nodded to himself, _"I was tired after eating dinner, and almost passed out."_ He turned to the sleeping Italian, _"And then he joined afterwards...when exactl-"_

_FLASH._

Germany blinked and looked up, where a pair of carmine red eyes and a pair of navy blue orbs were smiling wickedly at him. He then realized that there was a little golden chick humming happily atop the head of the owner of the red eyes, and then looked down as to where the sleeping Italian was.

_Shit._

"HAHA!" Prussia high-fived his blonde friend, and the two danced a little as the white-haired man waved his camera in the air. "I just_ knew_ you'd get some tonight, West! I just _knew!_ My awesome senses never lie!"

"I knew too!" France nodded, grinning, and then turned ran out into the hall, the sound of his footsteps running down the stairs pounding against Germany's eardrums, "Oi, Spain! We were right!"

"No, it's not what you think!" Germany said, panicked, "We didn't-"

"Oh, c'mon West, don't be such a shy little boy scout!" Prussia smirked, waving his camera in front of the German's face, "We got legit proof!"

"But I'm fully clothed!" Germany pointed to his black shirt, "How could we have..." He blushed, pursing his lips, "...'done it' if I'm wearing clothes, dammit?"

Prussia shrugged. "I have no idea. All I know is that little Ita-chan ain't a virgin no more!" He laughed and ran into the hallway, nodding ecstatically, "Yeah, Spain! We were totally right! The two got it on last night! Told you we couldn't leave West and Ita-chan alone in a house together, and-"

"WHAT? WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT POTATO BASTARD DOING WITH MY _FRATELLO_?"

_Shit._

Germany ran quickly to the door and slammed it shut, holding it closed with his palms right before another force started banging against it.

"DAMN IT, YOU POTATO BASTARD, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!" Romano's angry voice yelled from the other side of the door, and Germany shook his head. "Romano, calm down! Listen to me- I did _not_ have sex with your-"

"Don't try and lie, you bastard!" Romano spat angrily, his knocks intensifying against the door, "I saw the picture your potato-bastard-brother took, and I'm not convinced! Let me in! I want to see Feliciano NOW!"

"But I didn't! I'm wearing clothes, and-"

"Ve, Germany?" Italy rubbed his eyes sleepily, blinking in confusion as he sat up in the bed, "What's going on?"

"N-No time to explain, Italy, just-"

_BLAM._

Germany staggered back as the door was knocked off it's hinges, and a blazing-red Romano stood in the doorway, puffs of smoke evidently fuming out of his ears as he snarled at the German. "Where. The. Hell. Is. MY _FRATELLO_?"

"Ve, Lovi!" Italy smiled happily, and jumped out of the bed, as if forgetting he was completely naked and reaching towards Romano for a hug, "I missed you-"

"Let go, Feliciano!" Romano struggled to escape from his brother's loving grip, who was confused as to why he was trying to attack the German behind him. "I need to give your little potato bastard a piece of my mind!"

"But why?" Italy asked, tilting his head to the side.

"It's okay, Lovi!" Spain skipped in happily, giving the two Italy brothers a hug and then glomping Romano, a huge grin on his face, "You know that Germany is a nice guy, he wouldn't hurt Ita-chan!"

"Shut up, bastard!" Romano tried to shove the Spaniard off, but he kept hugging him. "D'aww, you're so cute, Lovi!"

"And besides," Prussia walked into the room, winking at Romano, "If you're jealous of little Ita-chan, you can always ask for a three-some-"  
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Romano lunged towards the Prussian, his eyes gleaming with anger, and France and Spain started to laugh along with Prussia as they tried to pull the angry Italian off of him, who was cursing in Italian at all of them.

"What's going on?" Italy asked, looking up at Germany, "Why are they all here and fighting?"

"N-No reason, Italy..." Germany shook his head, massaging his temples to soothe the sudden migraine that had triggered in his mind. "No reason...oh! How did you sleep? Do you feel better?"

"Ve, I do!" Italy chirped, smiling, and Germany was glad to see that the Italian was looking up at him with happy eyes, not closed, confusing eyelids. "And I was thinking about how you said I need to face my fears, and..." He twisted his toe shyly on the carpet, his cheeks turning a bright red.

"And...?"

"I decided that although it'd be hard, I'd be able to do it if you were always by my side!" Italy grinned, "Because you always make me feel better!" He giggled, and then quickly added, "If that's alright with you!"

Germany nodded, the corner of his lips tugging up a bit. He wrapped his arms around the smaller nation and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll always be here for you, Italy. Always."

"Really?"

"Re-"

"GET AWAY FROM MY _FRATELLINO_, YOU BASTARD!" Romano yelled, watching the two as the three other nations held him down onto the carpet, "GET AWAY OR ELSE I SWEAR, I WILL-"

"It's okay, Roma," Prussia winked, and Romano twitched at the annoying nickname, his anger seeming to increase exponentially, "I'm sure West will take plenty of care of little Ita-chan. Besides, it's not everyday you get to see West have sexy time-"

"I didn't have sex with him, Prussia!" Germany retorted, blushing a bit, "Shut up!"

"We have evidence, though, little Westie!" Prussia grinned wickedly, "No need to be shy!"

"I'm confused." Italy stated, scratching his head, "What's happening?"

"Nothing, Italy." France shook his head, winking at the smaller nation as he held down Romano's fist onto the carpet.

"Oh, okay!" The Italian turned to Germany, "Say, Germany, can you help me with my fear of thunder now?"

Germany blinked. "U-Um, sure."

"Vee!" Italy hugged the blonde happily, "Thank you, thank you for always being with me, Germany! Forever, right, right?"

The German blushed a bit and awkwardly hugged the Italian back, but then grinned as he snuggled into his shoulder, "Forever."

* * *

**A/N:**** Oh god the fluff. IT BURNSSSSS**

**So yep~! As always, an overly-fluffy one-shot with absolutely no point whatsoever and a BTT-Invaded ending! I hoped you all enjoyed it!**

**Btw, here's a tiny addition to the ending that's just for laughs~**

Three "awww"s came from behind the two, and Germany felt his cheeks further darken as the three nations smiled at the Italian hugging him. The brunette then grabbed his hand and started to drag him out of the room. "Come on, come on!"

"You should probably put some clothes on first, Italy, and-"

"Don't listen to him, Ita-chan!" Prussia winked, "Have fun!"

"Be safe!" France waved to them.

"You'll have lots of fun!" Spain smiled, and then looked down at the squirming Italian. "Aw, Lovi, you're so cute! What do you say we go and celebrate again for our tomato harvest once more?"

"Oooh," Prussia grabbed his camera out of his pocket, a gleam in his red eyes, "I agree."

"I'd rather drown in a vat of tomato soup, bastard." Romano replied bitterly, and Prussia laughed, waving his camera. "That works too, as Spain can save you and perform CPR, leading to kissy time, right France?"

France laughed. "That would be adorable."

"S-Shut up, you two!" Romano's face flushed a deep red, and then got up, pushing the Prussian and Spaniard off of him and heading towards the hallway, "Come on, Spain, let's go celebrate."

Spain pouted. "But now I want to save you from-"

"ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?"

"Yes, Lovi!" Spain immediately got up and ran after the Italian, leaving France and Prussia to grin at the two, their expressions satisfied as they looked down at Prussia's camera.

"Ready for another?"

"_Toujours, mon ami."_

**Hope you guys liked it! It took me a loooooong time to write~ ^^**

**Please review! :D**


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